Familia Myth: Aphrodite
by quijibo7609
Summary: I don't know if I can call a concept like Aphrodite my original character, but this is my take on her (and her familia) appearing in the Dungeon City of Orario and the decidedly mixed reception she receives. Rated M for Sexual Content, Language, Violence. This isn't about lemons, but sex is tied to the mythology surrounding Aphrodite


The exhausting trek from the southern heart of The Empire was nearing its end. The Dungeon City of Orario stood a distant smudge of light, but really wasn't more than a half-day's travel. It was the perfect distance for the young man looking at it, far enough where you couldn't make out any details, but close enough to fire the imagination. Ovid lived half his life in his imagination.

He didn't see a smudge of light nestled against a dark sea, but a shining beacon nestled amongst endless promise. Okay, privately, he would admit his attempts to wax poetical only had mixed success, but he wasn't coming to Orario to be a poet. Ovid was going to be an adventurer. A great adventurer that could afford someone else to wax poetical for him… hopefully, a someone else that was tastefully discreet and without desire for formal credit.

It wasn't very late, but he knew he should sleep. That knowledge was distant and vague. It existed in that vein where people acknowledge what would be best for them while still intending the opposite. Tomorrow would be busy… but sleep wasn't where his mind was. It was on a certain tall mystery goddess.

During the long journey, the goddess had worked hard, and had laughed harder. She drew eyes where she was, but remarkably few ever made any attempt. Those that did were rejected, but came back with smiles and light hearts. It was like she didn't want her being particular from discouraging others to trying. Ovid silently hoped she had been encouraging a specific someone. Someone named Ovid. Ovid almost believed it, or at least wanted to, but despite his almost belief he had never successfully gathered enough nerve. Several times he had been sure that now was his moment. Every time his moment came, Ovid's discovered a reason to put it off. But tonight there could be no more procrastination, tomorrow they would be in Orario and it was literally now or never. No more excuses.

Of course most of the excuses centered on, or around, Julia. Early in the trip the aspiring adventurer had taken up with the experienced waggoneer. Julia was a woman that despite being significantly older, did possess a crass charm, appreciable appetite, and (most importantly) a comfortable wagon with room for one more. That wagon was why he had to do little walking, why he was dry when it rained, and combined with Julia's… company… was why he was warm at night. For such luxuries he was more or less willing to make himself available. More when the work was done and Julia was… well frankly looking for sex…, and less just about every other time during the day. Ovid looked at the sky briefly, but the stars were shining on a warm spring night. There was no danger there. He patted the wagon affectionately, but it was time to say goodbye, and quickly packed his few possessions in his pack. Then something important caught his eye.

Laying beneath the wagon wheel was a fresh bucket of water, and two clean rags. Ovid smiled. With anticipation, the young man knelt before a bucket in he had no hand in fetching. Julia must have done so after watering her oxen. Technically he was supposed to fetch it, but admittedly he liked to linger near enough to be seen, thus difficult to be accused of hiding, but far enough to be out of earshot unless that person wanted to yell. Also technically, he wasn't staying in the wagon anymore.

Ovid knew he really shouldn't. There was a part of his mind that respected decency and told him this was boorish behavior. He was already packing up his stuff, well said stuff was packed to be honest, and sneaking off without even a thank you. Julia would be crushed. Possibly, no probably, she would get over it well enough, but it would doubtlessly take weeks or even months. Still, in for one Valis, in for two. He splashed water over his face, relishing its cool feel. Then he grabbed one of the small cloth scraps and scrubbed his neck and face with some zeal. Then he may have grabbed the second cloth strip and valiantly attempted to remove the unfortunate odor come out from under his arms. As a final shit move, the more decent side of his mind vainly pointed out, Ovid fully plunged his full head inside the bucket and scrubbed his scalp free of dirt and sweat with his fingers.

Ovid pulled his head out, eyes shining. He ran his fingers through thoroughly wet, but thankfully short, sand colored hair. He did feel a sudden bit of disquiet, something particularly troubling, and then double checked his reflection in the dirty water to make sure. Yep, a not so small mountain, complete with a shining white peak, was growing almost smack damn middle of his forehead.

As he set about to remedy the situation, the sudden popping sound from behind was way too apt, and he jumped a good half-meder in the air.

"Sorry," Julia snickered, obviously not sorry. She had stepped on a rather large twig, just before dropping a small arm load of firewood. She was smiling her breezy carefree smile that made most people want to smile back. Ovid eyes flashed guiltily at his packed rucksack, and in his heart he conceded using the water had been a cad's move. Karma was obviously punishing him for it. It was time to pay the piper.

Ovid waved off he apology as if he had magnanimously forgiven a substantial affront, then sighed so theatrically he completely missed Julia's eye-roll. Some people that live inside their imagination are crippled with doubts and shattered ego; that is a well conceded fact. Ovid obviously was not such a person.

Ovid's ego looked her over, finding every flaw and inventing a few others. Said ego then rendered the judgement that she was decidedly too old, too short, too round, with the unsubstantiated possibility of being too clingy. Ovid's ego also decided she was at least partially at fault for the fact he hadn't spoken to the beautiful goddess yet. To be completely fair, most of the rest of his brain thought differently and was cringing in shame. Also, another important part of his anatomy, fearing it would soon become reacquainted with Ovid's right hand, thought he was a complete idiot.

Many, perhaps most, young men are ruled by their ego, and Ovid was no exception. Warm bedding and a warm willing partner were deemed insufficient reason to continue the relationship any further. His ego did concede Julia _had_ been nice enough… he supposed. It wasn't like she didn't have a certain little something, but it was past time to move on. He smiled with false regret as he prepared to speak.

For Julia's part she was nearly laughing. Oh, she was a bit pissed at herself, it was humiliating to have an eighteen-year-old kid try to let you down easy. Still, there was something borderline hysterical about Ovid firmly fixing his gaze into some middle distance behind her.

"Julia I am going to find another place to sleep tonight." This was always so awkward.

"Okay." Julia was borderline laughing, but she also had a strong desire to kick him in the dick.

He blinked. "I don't want there to be hard feelings…"

"Over what?" her mind turned over the mental image of Ovid writhing on the ground in pain… so, so tempting.

Ovid narrowed his eyes, not quite sure she was grasping the implications. She had seemed reasonably intelligent, vulgar and crass, but not especially dimwitted. However, right now he was beginning to doubt prior observations. Best to spell it out, maybe use small words. "Over us being done."

"Okay, still not sure about the hard feelings," Julia sighed, she silently wished she had a headache so she could rub her temples. The sigh was of specific note, and even Ovid thought it was an odd kind of sigh. For the record it was the sigh of a woman not ashamed of her sex-life, while freely admitting to herself there were specific instances that couldn't be called shining moments of pride.

Ovid for his part, was thinking, _"Yep, small words."_

"Please," he marched on, firmly oblivious, "Let's just be friends. It was fun after all. You are special to me, but I am young and…"

She raised both her hands to stop him. This was starting to hurt in a way this young moron probably could never grasp. Her pride in herself was taking pretty firm hits for the first time in a while. It wasn't funny anymore. Dick kicking was rapidly gaining appeal. She really was only a sentence or two away from the act…, and then possibly backing the wagon over him for good measure. What the fuck had she been thinking? Biting back the unfamiliar taste of mild self-loathing, she managed to say, "Ovid. It's okay. You never promised anything. I never promised anything. Just. Please. Stop. Talking."

He straightened to his full height. Which was a bit taller than her, but not as impressively as he believed. "Yes, there is no need to draw this out. I will always remember you with fondness." With that he picked up his pack and marched off.

For Julia? Well she was trying to decide if that sentence had been enough. Her foot was getting twitchy. She was pretty sure it had been, but also pretty sure it wasn't really worth it. She knew, after all it wasn't like he hadn't been obvious, who he was chasing. She _almost_ pitied him. She didn't, but she almost did.

Ovid however marched off towards his fate, oblivious to danger. That mysterious goddess was out there somewhere, and he was feeling divine… yep even his ego believed he needed to hire a discreet poet when he achieved fame.

 **SCENE BREAK**

* * *

Julia was seething when she heard her goddess laughing behind her.

Julia was a beauty. She knew it; she used it. Her darkened honey color hair was admittedly cut too short to be sexy, but dealing with lice and bugs on the road forces one to make practical concessions. She had excellent bone structure, hadn't been cursed with the "Imperial Nose," and had a build her natural grace let her accentuate. She was also tall for a human woman, being 180 celch in height. Still, her goddess could make her feel small and plain.

Aphrodite stood at least a full hand span taller than two meders. Towering over just about anyone Julia had ever met. Even in the shadows, wearing that bulky dark cloak, there was something alluring about her form. Maybe it was her supernatural grace. She moved devoid of sound, but when she did all eyes turned to her. Long dark hair, somehow still lustrous in the night… oh shit. Fucking. Damn. It.

As Julia gazed upon her, she felt familiar dark heat rising. No... fuck rising, it was _raging_. Julia had been surprised, and not fully prepared. The traveler started gasping, mind entering full panic mode as her body's response threatened to overwhelm everything. Aphrodite's cowl had slipped completely off her head, exposing her face fully. The goddess's follower collapsed on her knees, torn between wanting to peel that cloak off with her teeth, and wanting to give into terror and join some celibate convent on a mountaintop.

"Sorry," the goddess mumbled, pulling her cowl up and over her head. A brief despair filled Julia, like a color somewhere had disappeared, and she wouldn't even be able to remember which one. "It slipped while I was crawling in the back of the wagon." She looked around camp, "Did you use my water?"

Shaking her head in answer and to clear cobwebs, Julia admitted to herself that at least her goddess got that idiot Ovid out of her head. "It was probably Ovid," a quick glance at washcloths sitting in dirt, "Yep, it was definitely Ovid." Julia licked dry lips, "I know I've said it before and I know you're not doing it on purpose, but for fuck's sake please be more careful. I thought I was going to need to change my small clothes."

Aphrodite laughed, it wasn't musical, but it was rich and honest. "Classy."

"Not an innuendo, I almost lost bowel control for a moment. That's one of the few things I am NOT into." She griped, but to catch sight of that beautiful dark hair… No. NO. NO! That way leads to madness.

Aphrodite laughed again, though there was a challenging doubtfulness cast into it. "You're not really all that kinky. You like a lot of the same specific kind of sex. You're more voracious than adventurous."

Julia shrugged, "You're one to talk. When was the last time you even got laid?" Aphrodite smiled mysteriously, but Julia wasn't fooled. "Some sex goddess I follow, doesn't even try to keep up with us mere mortals."

With a final glare, Julia climbed into the back of the wagon. If her weirdly sexless goddess had been routing around in it, she had by default touched Julia's stuff. Julia was permissive of most things (well not really but she liked to delude herself on that issue), but touching her stuff was not to be tolerated. She glared at the contents of her wagon before finally deciding that stuff had indeed been moved. She just wasn't completely sure which stuff, so she set about a more formal investigation. Aphrodite quietly laughed, dumping the dirtied water Ovid had used, and quietly walked off to fetch some more. Five minutes later, Julia's reemerged dustier and sweatier. She didn't want to smile when she was handed a clean cloth and a fresh pail of water, but she did.

"What were you doing in _my_ wagon anyways?" knowing she had lost another battle of the smile against Aphrodite.

"Pretending to move things."

"That is not funny," her smile died a tragic death on her face.

Aphrodite laughed, "Probably not to you, but to me?" Julia knew how infectious that laughter could be and fought it with everything she could muster. Her goddess took no pity on her and delivered the death blow by holding up a well-known comb, "See I did in fact touch something I shouldn't have!"

Julia really tried, but there was no holding it back. She giggled, yep she was thirty-three, and her goddess made her giggle by holding up her own stupid comb.

A sudden shudder, more latent reaction than burning desire, passed through her as she thought of Aphrodite's hair. It was enough to end her giggling, if not kill her smile. "You should have just asked." The waggoneer sighed more theatrically than even Ovid, "I know you can't turn it off, but for the official record, 'You're literally fucking terrifying.'"

As Julia splashed more water on her face, Aphrodite struck a well-constructed parody of a very suggestive pose, "It's my natural state of being."

Julia snarled into her rippled reflection, no one liked having their fears mocked. Then Julia abruptly let it go, knowing her goddess wasn't really doing that. Under the layers of comedy was a still sadness that rarely surfaced, but Julia had long learned it was always there. Julia raised her head and smiled a loving smile only her goddess ever saw.

"So how did it feel to be on receiving end of 'The Talk?'" Julia's beatific smile vanished yet again. She was starting to feel like a yo-yo.

"That is also not funny," Julia said firmly. Her crossed arms and full height were disappointingly unimpressive as she still craned her neck up to look at Aphrodite's shadowed face.

"On that point, I disagree," the words smirked at her. Words shouldn't be able to smirk, but Aphrodite's could. It had to be a divinity thing or something.

Julia rubbed her temples wishing for a headache, "You had better concede I at least give that talk better."

"A low bar, but the point is conceded. You are also avoiding the question." The goddess's voice had changed. It was parental now. The disagreement was old, usually after she had dented someone's ego… no that wasn't fair. It happened when she ignored warning signs and hurt someone.

Julia laughed, but it was chagrined and hollow, "Not dodging the question, just pointing out the context of the situation isn't really related."

Aphrodite smiled at being caught, "I know, but this isn't an opportunity that happens every day. Actually, this isn't an opportunity I thought I would ever have with you."

They shared a companionable grin, "Granted," Julia conceded. Then she straightened, took on formal air and stated for the record, "Even in this mostly unrelated case, I concede a blow to my considerable ego and a strong desire to kick him in his equally considerably sized dick."

The goddess raised her eyebrows, "Oh? You have quite the ego, is he really that impressive? That why you put up with him for so long?"

Julia let out a whine, "Yeah it's impressive, but trust me it wasn't worth it. It's almost unfair you know. Normally practice makes perfect, he got worse! He was down to like three minutes tops by the end. That doesn't count that he had no idea how to use his hands, his tongue, or his anything. It was like going through my boarding school days, but backwards!"

They stared at each other in mock seriousness, then they giggled. Then they roared. Julia would never admit it, but the stupid up/down conversation had made her feel better about the idiot she had been shagging. She hadn't even felt that bad, but Aphrodite could make you feel better. It was almost spooky. No, it was spooky.

"It's not all bad though," Julia started smirking to throw off her disquiet. She couldn't make her words smirk like Aphrodite could, but she wouldn't stop trying until the day she died.

"Oh?"

"He's definitely going after you tonight." Julia crossed her arms in triumph.

Aphrodite stopped smiling, though her voice was still warm. "Oh? You think he's worked up the nerve then?"

"Yep!" the man had dented her ego after all, even if not in any way he currently could understand. This would be glorious.

"Does he know anything about me?"

Julia rolled her eyes, "Not from me."

"Does he know my name?"

Julia didn't roll her eyes, she was actually offended, "I keep secrets, and you know that."

There was an awkward pause, "I guess I should go deal with it then."

 **SCENE BREAK**

* * *

Ovid found her sitting on a fallen tree staring at Orario. She was in profile to him, almost like she intended it that way, and he was again struck by the divine flawlessness of her appearance. Her cowl was has half-off her head, it was the most revealing he had ever seen her dress, and he ached to see just the slightest bit more. The bare hints of dark hair just a shade too warm be black was thick and beautiful, but there was no way to see how long it was. He had never seen it, no one in the caravan likely had. Why would she hide it? Ovid marveled at a face that was perfect in symmetry, though maybe she did have some distant cousin to the "Imperial Nose" he himself had been cursed with. Her skin was a tint or two lighter in color than an amazon's which made her look exotic but feel familiar. He was captivated. His ego believed could to turn the tables.

She heard him approach fairly late, but to his disappointment she didn't startle. What she did do was smile warmly as she pulled her cowl firmly down to her eyes. Eyes he enjoyed gazing into. They were beautiful, large but still almond shaped, with the vivid color of deep-blue seas in dazzling sunlight. Before Ovid realized, he was reaching for that cowl. Lost in his imagination, he could already see himself lifting it, tilting her head back, maybe even caressing that magnificent jawline. He was thwarted though when his wrist was seized with one delicate, but very powerful, hand.

She stood. Her towering presence brought cruel reality with it, smashing his fantasy into powder. For a long moment she just stood there, almost close enough for his dirty doublet to touch her fine cloak. Intimidation flashed through him, and his muscles tensed in unease. Ovid knew she was tall, it was as obvious as her beauty, but somehow Ovid never appreciated that fact properly. Also her grip was as unyielding as oak, and actually hurt a fair bit. Unease was turning into fear, panic was starting to build and then…. She released her grip with a bright smile. A smile that was full of kindness. The goddess took a graceful step backwards, putting polite distance between them. And just like that Ovid's panic receded like the tide, leaving just a distant echo of intimidation.

"I'm sorry, but I don't really like being touched by strangers. I'm Tureng by the way." She stuck out the same hand that had been crushing his wrist.

Ovid took it warily, but even though it was strong, it wasn't bone crushing. Silently shaking his head at how badly he was failing, he put on his most winning smile. Focusing his will power, he successfully fought off the strong desire to rub his wrist. "I am Ovid," and because he was young and didn't know better, "It's soon be a famous name."

She giggled a bit, and his confidence shot up. She sat down again, much to his relief. How could he had never realized just how much she towered above him? She then patted a companionable spot on the log, much to his joy. "Well Ovid, whose future fame is not in doubt, don't you think it's a bit rude to try and touch someone's face without permission or even introduction?"

Ovid made a show of grimacing, "Yeah, I honestly lost myself for a moment." For some reason his intended line of being spellbound by beauty went unsaid. Running it back though his head, he was sincerely glad his mouth was looking out for him.

She laughed, it was a good laugh, and he felt an honest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're forgiven, so long as you agree that you won't try it again unless I DO give you permission."

He laughed a bit at himself, the most of his remaining tension melting out of him, "So there's a chance I might be granted said permission." He waggled is eyebrows with comedic suggestion.

She didn't smile. Instead she cocked her head, giving him a considering look, "Depends on how well you recover. Let's be honest, you started this off by stabbing yourself in the foot."

He shrugged, not the answer he hoped for, but not the one he dreaded. "Granted. I accept the challenge."

She laughed again, it had a different note. He was silently amazed at how openly her laughter expressed her emotions, and how those emotions seemed to dominate the space between them. This time the laughter felt rueful, but somehow like he should have made that specific laugh not her. It was an odd feeling, that left him feeling flatfooted. He realized with a bit of dawning trepidation, he suddenly felt rueful. This revelation left him completely unable to hold up his end of the conversation.

Unfortunately, she was kind enough to throw him a lifeline attached to an anchor. "So I've noticed some looks, but I thought you were involved with someone. Sorry Ovid, I'm not into sharing. Not even someone soon to be famous."

On one hand, she had noticed him. On the other hand, he couldn't think of a way to frame the situation in any kind of flattering light. "Uh, we weren't really together, it was a more casual thing." Well that sounded limp and lame.

"Is she okay with that?" she asked. Her voice had cooled, and he knew he was failing utterly at the challenge he had so boldly accepted. He suddenly felt shame, both in his treatment of Julia and in his assumption he could just walk up to Tureng and seduce her with a few words.

"She seemed to be," he muttered weakly.

Suddenly she laughed, she laughed so hard she doubled over. She laughed so hard she rolled off the log, although she somehow managed to do that with surprising grace. How does one fall of a log elegantly? Ovid stared, his mind seizing on tangents because he was just so very confused. Intellectually, he was inclined to believe that he should feel angry. However, he couldn't find the correct moral grounds in which to base his anger.

Tureng hiccuped, he thought she might blush at that, but was again disappointed. "I'm sorry," she explained holding a hand up to mollify him, "but I've known Julia for years. She's in my familia after all. She spends most of her time carrying goods to Orario and back. Whenever she comes back it's always with a new bawdy tale or two. Also a love-bite or three." Tureng's laughter now had the hint of waning humor, like someone explaining someone else's joke. Or more accurately, like sharing an open secret to a person that had missed the obvious. Ovid blushed as she continued, "I will say it was refreshing to see someone else give her that speech for once." Tureng had slid off the trunk during her laughing fit and now had her booted feet sprawled straight out in front of her. She looked up at him from under her low cowl like a cat holding a canary. Ovid was swallowing something damned bitter.

His ears burning, Ovid was suddenly hyper-aware of an earlier conversation. That conversation was now contextualized in a very different way. "Oh dear gods, this is embarrassing," he murmured, not even aware that he had spoken.

Tureng was absolutely merciless, and Ovid's burning ears became a flaming face. The goddess further elaborated, "You have no idea how much fun I had laughing at her over it. I mean, she didn't even know what to do. She was so dumbfounded, being let down easy by a kid half her age. It was GLORIOUS!" Tureng shouted the final word into the night sky, holding both hands over her head in triumph. Thankfully she spoke no more, content to just snicker at the distant landscape. Ovid's ego's last coherent thought, before succumbing to utter defeat, was she could at least make some small effort to stop snickering.

The next words out of his mouth were frightfully hard to say, "So since she's part of your familia, did she ever talk about me?"

"Oh yep. She said you have a whopper in your pants. One even bigger than that zit on your forehead. Congratulations by the way… on the large penis, not the pimple." With that comment Ovid finally came to grips with an important fact about Tureng. He had no idea how to talk to this goddess. None. His expectations dead and buried, he did the only thing he could. Ovid started to laugh. Then Tureng started laughing. The laugh now sounded of congratulations and encouragement. Before the pompous young man even realized it, Ovid was truly enjoying himself for the first time in ages.

 **SCENE BREAK**

* * *

Julia was loading the wagon. Se had won a brand new tent and rucksack in last night's game of dice, and that was great. The new gear was heavy though, and that was less than great. Then she heard a polite cough. Julia turned to see a very shame faced young man fighting a mostly successful battle to maintain eye contact. Julia nodded politely before turning back to loading the wagon.

Without asking, he picked up one side of the bulky package and helped her load it into the back of the wagon. "I see you finally met Tureng," she said calmly.

He winced, but nodded. "She's, uh," he swallowed, "She's really something else isn't she."

"Ovid, you really have no idea." Julia shook her head and rubbed her temples, again silently wishing for a headache. "I am glad she went easy on you. Actually, I take that back. I was kind of hoping she was going to do it the hard way, but I really shouldn't have expected otherwise."

"I guess it wouldn't be too far out on a limb to say, 'I would not have enjoyed the hard way very much,'" he said, a wane smile on his face.

Julia nodded, letting the last of her anger go. She was being petty, he was still basically a kid. It wasn't like she had been a perfect at his age. Aphrodite must have _somehow_ seen _something_ in him, time for her to follow her goddess's lead. "No Ovid, the hard way sucks all the life out of you, but leaves you alive. No way to describe it but to say that it hurts."

He swallowed. His conversation with Tureng couldn't have been more than a few minutes long, but he was now a believer. He liked the goddess more than he had ever liked anyone and that feeling was troubling. The way she was able to steer the conversation was equally disquieting. The goddess had stood, and he been intimidated, she laughed and he had reciprocated. Had he no say in the outcome? He knew it, down in his very bones, she had done it so he could see the reality of his behavior. That did not change that she was the embodiment of his biggest fear, someone who could see clear through you. However, even in the face of this fear, he knew whose familia he wanted to join.

He gently tapped Julia's shoulder so she would look at him, "Is it too late to apologize?"

Julia looked then shrugged, "No, so long as you mean it."

"I am sorry for being an ass," and Julia was pleased he said it with sincerity.

She smiled, "Apology accepted." As much as anything, Aphrodite was the goddess of second chances.

 **CHAPTER END**

* * *

Author's note:

 **So I like Danmachi, but I am not as familiar with it as I really should be. Still, I do like it. For the record, I only watched it (and its spin-off) once. I like the premise. I like the world. I like the mystery set-up. I like Hestia and her Familia. It's just that I may make some lore breaks even though I am going to sincerely try and keep this as canon as possible. I'll reveal timelines in story. Also, since this is going to aim at the canon side, most of your favorite characters are only going to have small supporting rolls, this fic is never really going to be about Hestia and her familia, Loki and hers, or Freya and hers. Hermes and Hephaestus are going to be in and out of it a bunch though. So if I get something important wrong, tell me my mistakes quickly, loudly, but please still politely.**

 **This is rated M mostly so I can use language, violence, and sexual content in a more freely open context. So you are aware, and I am not wasting your time, this isn't putting emphasis on lemons, and they will be more implied than explicit. Also of important note, this will have LGBT themes, and it is written by a straight male. If I say something hurtful or exploitative, it is unintentional. Please tell me my mistake or misconception, so I don't keep making it. This will help me grow as a person.**

 **This fic was heavily inspired by Lindsay Ellis's "Loose Canon" episode on Aphrodite, a weird conversation I had on YouTube, and (most obviously) the work of Fujino** **Ō** **mori and Suzuhito Yasuda.**

 **Please offer your support to the site this fic gets posted on and the sandbox that allows me to play in it. Please give Lindsay's "Loose Canon" a shot as well.**

 **As an Aside: Anyone wanting to BETA this (especially someone who can keep me from making obvious lore mistakes) please drop me a line.**

 **As a double aside, how the fuck to you do scene breaks on this website? I give up for now!**


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